


Sixty-one steps

by althoughtheuniverse



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Boyf Riends (implied) - Freeform, Gen, Hospital scene, Lots of Crying, Rich set a fire, Still kinda sad, nobody dies i promise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-23
Updated: 2020-05-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:53:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24343825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/althoughtheuniverse/pseuds/althoughtheuniverse
Summary: Michael didn't make it out of Jake's burning house in time. Jeremy visits his best friend at the hospital everyday.
Relationships: Jeremy Heere & Michael Mell, Jeremy Heere/Michael Mell
Comments: 2
Kudos: 70





	Sixty-one steps

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome!
> 
> This is a little something I wrote in just under an hour after watching this film called "Collateral Beauty" with my parents. My brain decided that it needed to write something sad after hearing the (really beautiful!) soundtrack of the movie- so here it is. I tried editing but ultimately decided to just post it.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

Jeremy had never planned for things to go this way. He had never planned on failing his one true friend. All he had ever wanted was to be seen

And he had succeeded.  
He was seen, admired even. Top of the food chain, popular, worshipped by younger girls, an idol for boys who were struggling like he once did.  
He was happy.  
Or at least his face portrayed a happy façade. Wide grin, cheeky remarks, contagious laughter.  
It was fake.

Nobody knew and if Rich shot him a sad smile from time to time, no one had to know.  
Life was better this way. No more bullying, no more getting shoved against lockers, no more gay jokes.  
No more video games, no more staying up late getting stoned in his best friend’s basement.  
No more best friend.

When the Squip had offered him the Upgrade he had accepted, wasting no time on thinking things through, activating the optic nerve blocking, effectively erasing Michael from his life. His mind set on the only goal his teenage brain could’ve come up with- being popular, getting the girl, escaping the agonizing life he had been living.

It wasn’t worth it.  
He knew that now. But he also knew that it was too late.

Jeremy stared at the poster on the wall opposite his bed. It showed some band the Squip had deemed chill. When Rich had first come over to his house nearly a month ago, a pained look had crossed his face before the shorter male nodded approvingly and said something along the lines of “Sick band, make great music”.

His gaze wandered to the framed picture on his nightstand- the only picture left in his room. It showed a Jeremy who had just turned six and his best friend Michael, both boys grinning widely, displaying their matching tooth gaps.

A tear made its way down Jeremy’s left cheek before he brushed it away forcefully and took a deep breath.  
These would come up every now and then. Sometimes unexpected like last week when he had found himself in the boy’s bathroom at school, crying, every sob shaking his body, clinging to himself desperately, searching for some kind of comfort, finding none. Sometimes he felt it coming, creeping up on him until he couldn’t shake it anymore and gave in to the flood of emotions.

“I wish I could change what I’ve done. I wish you were here,” he whispered, voice hoarse from crying earlier. He didn’t look up when his dad entered his room, eyes still glued to the picture on his nightstand.

“Good to go Jeremy?” his dad asked quietly.

Jeremy nodded. It took him a couple minutes to actually get up and look his dad in the eyes, but he managed it eventually. The two of them walked down the stairs in silence, his dad grabbing the car keys on the way out and locking the front door behind them.

It was a quiet drive. None of the two men felt the need to talk, Jeremy keeping his eyes trained on the changing scenery outside the window.

It took them twenty minutes to get to their destination. As his dad pulled up in the parking lot of the hospital, Jeremy focused on his breathing. In and out. Steady. In and out.

“You ready son?”  
He nodded. His dad sighed before shaking his head and opening the car door.

Jeremy felt numb as they walked side by side up to the huge white doors of the hospital. The first step inside brought the familiar smell of disinfectant and that weird air refresher the receptionist kept on her desk.

He knew every single step of the way. Thirty steps straight ahead, wait for an elevator, get in, press the button for the third floor. Get out, turn left, another twenty-four steps, knock. He had counted all his steps. It took him exactly two minutes to reach his destination under normal circumstances. Not normal was rare, only if the elevators were too crowded and he had to take the stairs. That would mean another fourteen steps and the added thirty-six stairs. Three minutes forty-seven seconds. Knock.

“Come in.”

Seven steps into the room and he was there.

“Hello Jeremy. How are you today?” it was the warm voice of Michael’s mom, she shot him a smile and nodded at his father who took the empty chair by the window. As usual.  
Jeremy nodded. He barely spoke to people these days, only to Michael, but Mrs. Mell didn’t mind.  
“Jazmyn will be here soon. We’ll leave you alone for a bit. Thought you would like that,” she tried another smile, but it never reached her eyes. It was the same routine every day.   
He nodded again, trying to hold back his tears and failing as he felt something warm run down his cheek.

It took five minutes of silence before the door to the hospital room opened once again, revealing Michael’s other mom, Jazmyn. She only took one step into the room and her wife rose from the chair opposite Jeremy’s in an instant. His dad got to his feet too and with a short pat to his shoulder the adults left the room.  
Silence again.

Jeremy didn’t try to hold back his tears anymore, they were running freely down his face, blurring his sight. He didn’t make a sound though. The tears were silent, and he caught himself wondering briefly about how his body should’ve been dry for days but somehow still came up with fresh tears.

His hand shook as he leaned forward and reached for the one on the bed. Grabbing Michael’s cold hand sent another wave of tears to his eyes, but he didn’t let go. He couldn’t. Not again.

“They say that they don’t know if you can actually hear anything. But I know you can. You could hear everything even when you wore headphones in the crowded halls of school. You never failed to answer to my questions without even pausing Marley.”

Jeremy felt his voice break and shook his head, eyes fixating on the tiny blue dots of the linen.

“I know I’ve said it a million times, but it’ll never be enough. I’m sorry.”

A whimper rose in his throat and Jeremy squeezed his eyes shut in an attempt to stop the tears, but it was no use.

“Your doctor said there’s nothing he can do, that you should’ve been awake by now and they don’t really know why you aren’t. Why are you still not awake? Why won’t you wake up?”

He was full on sobbing now, but Jeremy couldn’t bring himself to care. It wasn’t fair. He had been the one to take the stupid Squip, waste a twelve-year friendship and end up calling his best friend a loser. Michael had tried to help even after everything Jeremy had done.   
And Jeremy? Jeremy had been too enthralled with this vision of popularity and Christine’s undying love that he had forgotten the most important thing in his life. Michael.

Rich had set a fire, burning down what had once been Jake’s home, trying to get rid of the very thing Jeremy had to thank for all of this. It wasn’t until the fire department had arrived that he had realized the horrible truth. Michael had never left the house. Jeremy remembered searching frantically for his best friend between all the frightened kids outside of the house, asking anyone who would listen if they’d seen Michael, yelling at a firefighter and nearly running back inside the burning house.

It took them ten agonizing minutes to locate and rescue Michael, by then the boy was barely alive. The medics worked fast, doing everything in their power to stabilize the kid. Jeremy had been allowed to sit beside Michael on the way to the hospital. He had answered mechanically to every question they’d thrown at him, eventually collapsing on one of the seats in the waiting area and calling Michael’s moms when they had told him that he couldn’t follow any further.

Three weeks had passed since that night. Three weeks in which Jeremy’s life revolved around getting through the school day and being at the hospital for hours afterwards.

The Squip was gone. While Rich had been brought to the hospital alongside Michael and Jake he had recovered rather quickly, telling Jeremy about Mountain Dew Red as soon as he could. Together they shared the bottle Jeremy had previously stolen from Michael’s immense collection of vintage soda. And it worked.

Being free from the nagging voice inside his head was a great relief, but ultimately meant nothing to Jeremy as his best friend was still unconscious.

Jeremy squeezed Michael’s hand he was still holding and prayed to get some kind of reaction, but as always there was none.  
He sighed.

The doctor’s had told them to have faith, to be patient and that Michael’s body would wake up as soon as he was healthy enough to do so, but every day that passed with nothing happening saw Jeremy losing a little bit of hope.

Guilty.  
It was his fault that Michael was laying here, possibly in pain, possibly never waking up.  
No.  
He would wake up eventually, Jeremy had to believe. He couldn’t let himself give up. He had already done that once and that had landed Michael in the hospital. Never again.

“Just…wake up, okay? You don’t even have to forgive me. I mean, I’d understand. I don’t know if I can ever forgive myself. Just come back. Yell at me, be mad at me, make me understand all the mistakes I’ve made. Hell, you can even punch me, I wouldn’t mind.”

Jeremy looked up at Michael’s face to be met with a pair of brown eyes. He gasped, his free hand shooting up to cover his mouth.

“Would never wanna punch you Jere,” Michael’s voice was raspy, and he sounded like he had to use a lot of strength to get those words out.

Jeremy couldn’t contain the sound of joy as his eyes teared up once again and he threw himself at his best friend, sobbing by the time his face met the other boy’s chest.

He felt a hand gently squeezing his own and just like that his world seemed to fall back into place.


End file.
